


gods, together

by 606lovemail



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Deity GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Fluff, How Do I Tag, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Pining Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Requited Love, Romantic Friendship, Short & Sweet, The Feeling Is Mutual, dream is head over heels, i just found out i could do custom tags, so yeah george is a god or something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29151219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/606lovemail/pseuds/606lovemail
Summary: george is breathtakingly beautiful in the moonlight and dream is head over heels.--a very short fantasy? immortal? god? au... I don't really know
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 61





	gods, together

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by My Sun, My Moon, My Star by tbhyourelame! Go read that, it is absolutely beautiful :)

“Do you ever think that we were meant to be here?” Dream hears the question come soft from his left.

The sky is an inky black and he feels the wind rustle around them, wrapping its fingers around them and pulling them closer to each other. The grass whispers endlessly.

Dream hums, considers it. “What, like a destiny thing?”

He feels George’s nod from next to him and gazes up at the sky. The stars are bright and demanding. They almost burn him.

“Maybe… I think we always end up finding our way to each other,” Dream says, and after catching a glimpse of the man next to him, admiring the moonlight that glows in the pitch-dark, he adds, “I’d like to think that.” It’s hard, but Dream won’t give him a real answer. The watered down ones are easier to drink in, so he swallows and lets it flood through him. He won’t tell George that he thinks they must be soulmates, that he’s thought about it ever since they built the rickety house out of wood and nails that they reside in together. The hills and grass and trees it sits upon have always belonged to them alone.

Dream has no idea exactly how long it’s been since then; time doesn’t really pass with George. He is eternal with him, and it’s a feeling like no other. The blond allows himself the fleeting thought that they are gods, together, passing through a mundane world unaware of their existence. It warms him as the night chills, and George grows closer.

“I think so, too.” George whispers absentmindedly. The steady chirp of crickets finds a home in their silence, and Dream shifts to look at him.

George is leaning back on his hands, his white glasses push tufts of hair out from his forehead, and moonlight spills down his face and his neck. His sweater hangs a size too big from his figure. His palms stretch out on the grass behind him, pale fingers tugging at it idly. Dream thinks he falls for the other a little more each time he catches the sight of him like this. The way the brunet looks at the sky like he knows every secret it holds, and when he catches Dream staring and smiles, he looks at him like he’d tell him each one if he only asked. _Gods, together_.

The stars dull, the crickets grow quieter, the wind stirs less; all because Dream’s attention belongs to him. The universe revolves around George, and he’s looking at Dream like he holds it in his eyes. In that moment, everything exists only for the two of them. The silence is a tangible thing; it wraps them in peace that they only find with each other.

“You’re not cold, are you?” George’s voice contrasts against the stillness, and the sounds of life begin again. The stars glow blinding once more, and Dream watches George turn his head back to the sky. Long fingers travel to draw shapes distractedly on the back of the blond’s hand. Dream feels his breath hitch. _Gods, together… no._ George was the only entity here, angelically beautiful and fascinating. Dream was helpless to do anything but watch, slipping and falling deeper into love with each passing moment. It had always been that way. 

“I’m not… did you want to head inside?” Dream turns up his palm and gently entangles his fingers in George’s, nervously waiting for a reaction. He doesn’t move them.

The brunet shakes his head, eyes still trained on the sky above the both of them. “Mm-mm. I like it here.” A small smile is thrown Dream’s way, and any words he might’ve said catch in his throat. He is lost to him.

George traces circles on his hand with his thumb, quietly acknowledging their interlocked fingers with a soft squeeze. His other hand plucks at a flower, blue in the moonlight. Dream swears it wasn’t there a minute ago.

“I like this color,” George says simply, “it’s bright.” He smiles and pulls his hand away from Dream’s, using it to hold the picked flower with gentle care. He turns to Dream and outstretches his arm.

“It’s for you.” The wind blows quiet promises into their ears.

Dream takes the flower, akin to a beating heart. It finds its place in his lap, delicate, full of life and the weight of being treasured. George smiles, shifts his attention back to the midnight view and, to Dream’s surprise, grabs his hand once more. Their hands settle between them in middle ground.

“George…” It’s almost a question, whispered like a secret between the two of them. The blond finds himself moving to face him, allowing more of the moon’s glow to touch his skin. Dream is envious.

_Gods, together_

Dream lifts the hand unoccupied by George’s, brushes it so cautiously against the other’s jaw that he fears he might not have felt it. The brunet’s eyes widen and he turns his head, crimson surprise blooming across soft cheeks. He brings himself closer.

“Can I…?” Dream’s words are small, hesitant, shaky. They mean the world to him.

_If you’ll let me._

George nods, and soft lips are pressing against his own, warm against the cool wind.

Time seems to slow down around them. The world turns blue, a fleeting glow of cerulean spilling across the grass, down the slope of George’s neck, along their hands that intertwine under the eyes of the stars. It’s in everything, and he is enveloped in it. Dream wonders briefly if George sees green. 

He tastes like nectar and ambrosia, like the night sky and the ground beneath them come to life. Candied moondust and sweet rain. All the time in the world is not enough for this moment.

Dream brings up his hand, slides it through feathery hair, holds on like he’s scared George will float up into the heavens without him. He hears him hum, content, and pulls back to look at him.

George’s eyes are safe and loving. He sees himself reflected in them, and they seem to hold the universe.

Gentle hands hold his face and bring him in again.

_Gods, together_

_If you’ll let me._

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing something like this, so any tips/constructive criticism would be really helpful! Thank you for reading :)


End file.
